Come Rain or Shine
by Useless19
Summary: The last thing Len wanted after a long day was a visit from the Weather Witch.


**Come Rain or Shine** - _The last thing Len wanted after a long day was a visit from the Weather Witch._

_Warnings: Mention of post-partum depression, genderbending._

* * *

It was miserable outside. The winds were up to nearly gale-force and the rain couldn't decide if it was actually being hail or not, stinging either way. Len had to battle the warehouse door for a good five minutes before it let him inside.

His boots squelched as he walked and his clothes were sodden. Len found the battered heater in the little office room the warehouse offered and started stripping out of his wet furs. His undershirt and boxers were soaked too, but they'd dry a hell of a lot faster than his thick outer layers.

"You sure know how to treat a girl to a good time."

Len was moving before the voice finished speaking. However, he didn't fire; he recognised the voice. He kept his cold-gun trained on the intruder as she sauntered up to him from the shadows she'd been concealed in.

"What the hell do you want, Mardon?" Len snapped, "I assume that little display outside is your fault."

"You'd be correct," Mardon said, seemingly unconcerned about the gun pointed in her direction, "And you know what I want."

"The answer's still no," Len said.

Mardon pouted. Thankfully it wasn't a good look for her and Len could shore up his barriers. It was one thing to run into the Weather Witch when they were both out fighting the Flash and it was another for them to be in an enclosed space with Len under-dressed.

"Do you know how immature your rules sound?" Mardon said, "'_No girls_'. What are you, six?"

"The rules are there for a reason," Len said, "And you've proven yourself untrustworthy in the past."

"Like the rest of your team is any better," Mardon said, a stray spark of lightning dancing around her eyes for a moment, "McCulloch can give me a reference."

"I'm well aware what kind of 'reference' McCulloch can give you," Len said.

"If you've got the skills, use them," Mardon said with a sly smile, "You wouldn't complain if you actually got laid once in a while."

Mardon was close now. Len lowered his gun, confident that he was fast enough to stop Mardon without it before she tried anything. Mardon was tracing her lips with the weather wand, flicking the tip of her tongue out to wet them occasionally.

"Introduce me to a stable woman in the business and I'll consider relaxing my policy," Len said, "With you and Blacksmith running around I don't see that happening soon."

"Me, Blacksmith, and the Golden Glider," Mardon said, bracing herself.

Len grabbed Mardon by the throat and shoved her against the wall. "Don't say a fucking thing about Lisa," he snarled.

"Why should I stay quiet about my friend?" Mardon snapped, her voice choked, "I worked with her far more than you ever did!"

"You think there isn't a reason for that? You think I didn't want my sister _out_ of the game and _safe_?" Len snarled.

Mardon's eyes sparked again and this time a jolt of electricity lanced through Len's fingers and made him release his grip. His fingers stung, but Len ignored it and forced his hand into a fist.

"And if you'd been a better brother you would've _seen_ that it was too late for her to back out and helped her," Mardon snapped, red marks on her neck where Len's fingers had gripped it, "Maybe if you'd let her into the Rogues proper, instead of fighting her, she'd still be alive."

Len slammed his fist into the cheap plaster by Mardon's head. It went through, making yet another hole in the filthy wall.

"Get the fuck out of my sight before I do something we'll both regret," Len said, his voice low.

"You're just like my parents," Mardon said, a dark glare on her face, "Never could abide me doing anything even remotely masculine. No, all that went to _Clyde_. Clyde who couldn't defend himself in the slightest. Clyde who never so much as came into passing contact with testosterone."

"Clyde who you killed," Len added.

"_I didn't kill him_!" Mardon shouted, "I didn't. I don't... It _wasn't me_."

"Not from what I've heard," Len said.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Mardon snarled, the lightning back in her eyes, "Clyde was dead when I found him."

"Whatever you say," Len said, finally pulling back his hand and taking a step back to let Mardon go, "Now get out."

"No," Mardon said stubbornly, "I'm going to be a Rogue and you're going to let me. You've seen how powerful I am. I've been in this game nearly as long as you have."

"What's with the sudden desperation?" Len asked, "You've never been this serious before."

A haunted look passed over Mardon's face. "I'm not going back in Iron Heights," she said quietly, "You don't know what they do to you there – what they do to _women_. I need protection."

Len took a moment before speaking. He'd heard how Iron Heights had taken a turn for the worse. Still, before he even considered making Mardon an offer, there was something else he had to clear up first...

"What about that kid of yours?" Len asked, "I don't like making deals with anyone willing to murder children."

"I carried that parasite for nine months," Mardon snapped, "It would've been less if I could've gotten rid of it sooner. Don't I get a say about it?"

"Not from where I'm standing," Len said.

"There's a reason they've put 'postpartum depression' on my file," Mardon said, "I'm hardly alone as a mother wanting to get rid of her child."

That, at least, was something Len had witnessed as a kid himself, One of the mothers in the trailer park had been diagnosed with that, but only after she had subjected her baby to far too much.

"Are you going to let me become a Rogue?" Mardon pushed.

"No," Len said, "I've got my rules and I'm sticking to them. However," he pre-emptively cut Mardon's protest off, "I'm willing to deal."

Mardon cocked her head, looking interested. "Go on."

"We've got contacts. Alchemy, Grodd, those sort," Len explained, "Not proper Rogues, but willing to help us out if we help them with what they want. If you scratch our back, we'll be happy to keep you out of Iron Heights."

"And what, exactly, does scratching your back involve?" Mardon asked, licking her lips.

"Nothing you're imagining," Len said, "We know something big's coming up, and I want every ounce of backup I can get for us."

"Backup for front lines consisting of you, a teenage boy, and an addict?" Mardon snorted, "I don't know why you even bother pretending that your 'backup' has even the remote chance of _not_ being called in."

"Only in case of a..." Len frowned as something hit him, "Addict? What do you mean, addict?"

Mardon snorted. "Shows what a _great_ job you're doing as leader. Maybe it's best you're not letting me be a full Rogue."

"McCulloch's an addict?" Len pressed, grabbing Mardon by the shoulders.

"You didn't get this from me," Mardon said, "It's the reason I'm not trying to get in through him. I like my sex clean, thank you."

"Fuck!" Len let go of Mardon and hit the wall again, "Why the fuck would he be so fucking _stupid_? And if it's not him the fucking brat's tying explosives to dogs and –"

The smile on Mardon's face wasn't reassuring as Len cut himself off. She'd take every inch she could if given the opportunity and Len was being careless.

"Get out," Len snapped, tiredness creeping over him.

"Sure there's nothing I could do to make you bend your rules just a little?" Mardon asked, trailing her fingers up Len's back.

Len turned and grabbed Mardon by the upper arms and pressed her against the wall. He allowed himself one lingering glance down her body. Tall, with long black hair perpetually tangled by wind and rain in a way that shouldn't look so good. Len preferred larger breasts on his women, but he would be willing to make sacrifices for legs that long. Her tongue ran over her lower lip slowly, with the air of a woman who knows exactly what she does to men.

Len leant forward to whisper in Mardon's ear. "I'm not seventeen any more; a pretty smile and flash of tits isn't going to make me do something I don't want to. There is no way you're fucking your way onto this team."

"Glad we've settled that then," Mardon said, shrugging of Len's grip, "I'll have this one just for me then."

Her hands snaked up to hold the back of Len's head and pull him down into a kiss. Her lips were soft, warm, and just a little tingly. Len decided his principles were satisfied by him not bending her over the rickety table and let himself enjoy the kiss while it lasted.

"Done?" Len asked when they pulled apart.

"For now," Mardon said, with a saucy smile and a wink, "I'll see you around, Captain."

With that, Marcia Mardon walked gracefully from the room. Len counted to thirty before slumping down to sit on a crate with his head in his hands.

Looked like his life was going to get _that_ much more complicated.


End file.
